


I Lost You (And It Hurts Like Hell)

by bmart57



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Ashes Scene in Avengers: Infinity War Part 1, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Depressed Steve Rogers, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve tries to process
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 12:18:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14496828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bmart57/pseuds/bmart57
Summary: It finally happened. Steve lost everything. This time the price was too high. More than he was willing to pay.This?This he couldn't do.





	I Lost You (And It Hurts Like Hell)

The sun is beaming down, gleaming off of Steve’s golden hair. A breeze flutters the blades of grass that crush beneath his bare feet. Steve shields his eyes and sees Bucky standing on the far side of the field in front of a hut-like structure.

Bucky raises a sleek metal arm, the sleeve of his loose-flowing, blood-red robe falling down near his shoulder. “Stevie, hey!”

Steve smiles, furrowing his brow in confusion as he waves back. He notices then that he’s in a robe of some kind, too. Long and flowing, in a shade of deep blue. “Bucky, what–”

“Catch!” Bucky says, a grin apparent on his face even at this distance. With his enhanced arm, Bucky throws a metal disk, small with curved edges, in an arch that effortlessly covers the hundreds of feet between them. Steve reaches out and snatches it out of the air, his confusion not alleviating.

“Nice one!” Bucky takes a few steps away from the hut toward Steve. The further he gets from it, the less Steve can comprehend its shape, until finally Steve can’t see it at all. “Come on, toss it back!” Bucky says.

Steve rubs his thumb over the cool surface of the metal disk. “I don't understand,” he says, but it’s too low for Bucky to hear.

He looks back up and sees four creatures on the edge of the plain. Big and black, they’re stalking closer and closer to an oblivious Bucky. “Run!” Steve shouts, even as he takes off to bridge the distance between them.

In his hands is no longer the disk, but his old vibranium shield. The one he hadn’t seen for years, not since everything that had happened with Tony. Its weight is familiar in his grasp, and he doesn’t pause to figure out where it came from. The creatures are only a few feet behind Bucky now, snarling and ravenous. Steve tosses his shield at an angle to hit the closest one.

Dread fills his stomach the second Steve releases the shield. He can see already that the trajectory isn’t as he intended, and the shield is actually headed straight for Bucky. “Bucky, move!” Steve shouts. Bucky turns his head and only then sees the creatures. With a sickening crunch that Steve shouldn’t be able to hear from the distance, the shield connects with Bucky’s exposed neck.

He crumples to the ground in a pile of red fabric and bloodless, sallow skin.

“No, no, no! Bucky!” Steve forces his feet to move faster, Bucky his only concern. The closer he gets, the less clear Bucky’s body becomes. Now clad in his tactical uniform, he falls to his knees. 

Only his shield lies on the ground before him, shining in the sunlight.

He looks around. The creatures are gone, too. Surrounding him are a sea of flowers, the blossoms bunched on top sturdy stems in a deep shade of violet. _Hyacinth,_ he remembers his mom telling him once. She had grown them in a box in the window of their tiny Brooklyn apartment. She loved how strong they were, how they never seemed to give up even when she forgot to water them for days at a time.

Steve stands, turning in circles and crushing the flowers beneath his boots. “Bucky?” He calls, his voice thick. 

_“It’s the end of the world,”_ Steve hears Bucky say behind him. He turns on his heel, but there’s no one there. Only flowers, as far as his eyes can see. 

“Bucky, where are you?”

 _“...’til the end of the line.”_ This time Steve hears his voice like an echo. Like a memory. He starts walking in a direction at random, hoping to find something, _anything_ to help him understand what the hell is going on.

The wind picks up, carrying Bucky’s voice to him. _“That little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight. I’m following him.”_ Steve shakes his head, spinning in a circle and running in a different direction. 

“Bucky,” he calls again. The sky darkens, and thunder rolls in the distance. 

And then like a whisper in his left ear, Bucky says, _“I don’t know if I’m worth all this.”_

Steve turns around again. Bucky is standing there a few feet away, fully suited up in his own tactical gear. His face is terrified. “Steve?” he says, his voice wavering. 

“Bucky!” Steve reaches a hand out, but before he can grab Bucky’s gloved hand, it disintegrates into ash. It spreads to his body and then his head, and then he’s gone. Nothing but a pile of soot at Steve’s feet. _“Bucky!”_

Steve shoots up into a sitting position, gasping to catch his breath. His body is covered in sweat, and his head is pounding. He clears his throat, and it feels hoarse. It takes him a moment to realize he woke himself up with his screams. He looks around the room and remembers that he went to spend some time alone in a spare room in the Wakandan palace after… 

After. 

Everything that happened earlier that day hits him square in his chest and he feels like he can’t breathe. Tears spring to his eyes. He looks around the room frantically for anything, any clue that it was all some dream that he just needs to wake up from. 

But he knows deep down that it wasn’t. It was real. Thanos won. 

And Bucky… 

Bucky was gone. 

And Sam. And Wanda and Vision and T’Challa and _Bucky._

A sob wracks Steve’s body, and he puts a hand up to cover his mouth. Tears flow down his cheeks, soaking into the edge of his beard. He reaches beside him and grabs a pillow, burying his face in its side. 

It finally happened. He lost everything. For real this time. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he was still here and they were gone. It should have been him. It should have been _him,_ Bucky deserved– 

He gasps for air, a ball of anguish writhing in the pit of his stomach. He takes a deep breath and screams into the pillow, the plush padding muffling the sound. 

He deserved better. Bucky had been through so much already. It should have been Steve this time. It should have been him.

It was– It was the end of the line. 

And this? 

This he couldn’t do. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "It Hurts Like Hell" by Fleurie. Check out my Post Infinity War Playlist if, like me, you're still in process mode after IW, and some relevant music might help:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLG6Dvau-S8PY790Op94T5LfCewje_7u6y


End file.
